


Plumulaceous

by wig_powder



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Pillow Fights, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 20:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wig_powder/pseuds/wig_powder
Summary: Archie gets some good news and decides to celebrate in an...unusual manner.





	Plumulaceous

For all his desire for solitude, Horatio Hornblower was happy to have a friend in Archie Kennedy. When he was willing to be honest with himself, having Archie’s happy-go-lucky attitude was a healthy counterpoint to his precise calculations and thoughtfulness. If he was feeling as though he was about to be ousted from the Navy in disgrace, Archie would swoop in and say a few well-timed things to get Horatio…well, not exactly laughing, but certainly in a more cheerful mood.

That being said, Archie’s insistence on celebrating every small victory with a burst of energy and enthusiasm was utterly foreign to him. Horatio preferred to acknowledge the success and just get on with things. If pressed, he could be induced to have a celebratory drink or two, but otherwise, it didn’t overly matter to him. Archie, on the other hand, liked to shout the news from the rigging, accosting officers and crewmen alike to tell them of his good fortune. Then, invariably, he would get the urge to celebrate in some fashion. Having a few drinks was always the preferred option, but if they weren’t near a port or grog was being firmly rationed, he had to find other ways to express his excitement.

Such, it seemed, was the case now. Archie had received a letter from home in the latest mail packet, and judging from the way his face had lit up and he began rocking on the balls of his feet, he’d received some wonderful news. He’d been due for his watch, and thus couldn’t share the news with Horatio. Knowing what was coming, Horatio took advantage of the calm before the storm and retreated to their cabin to get some reading done. When the cabin door closed and he heard Archie’s contented sigh, he looked up cautiously. “All right then, Archie, let’s have it. What news from home?”

Archie’s eyes were positively glowing. “My brother’s wife just delivered a healthy baby boy. I’m an uncle, Horatio!”

Horatio gave a genuine smile at that. “Congratulations, Archie. I’m sure you’ll be a hero for the little fellow as he gets older. Uncle Archie, the dashing Naval officer.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to corrupt his young mind with tales of the sea,” Archie said, removing his jacket and tossing it aside, “Telling him of pitched battles and raging storms. Maybe even repeating some of the tales the crew tell down in the mess…”

“I doubt Lady Kennedy would much approve of that.” Horatio said dryly.

Archie just grinned. “She knows the risks of inviting me over. I will, however, try to limit my tales to whenever she’s out of the room.”

“Much appreciated, I’m sure,” Horatio said, shutting his book and setting it aside, knowing _something_ was coming, “Though perhaps you should wait until he’s of school age. I don’t think you would be welcome back if his first words were something you’d taught him.”

“You may be right, at that,” Archie laughed, “But oh, Horatio, you can’t imagine how wonderful this news is. To no longer be the youngest one in the family is just…indescribable.”

Horatio was in the process of nodding when the pillow went sailing past his head. “What in…” he said, startled but not overly surprised. Archie’s methods of celebration were…unorthodox. Joining a gathering of crewmen in their sea shanties, dancing in their cabin and somehow roping Horatio into it, or jumping overboard for a swim was not out of the realm of possibility for him. The crew regarded it as eccentricity, and the officers accepted it as long as he wasn’t disrupting the ship. As for Horatio, well, he was prepared to weather the storms. He just wished he didn’t keep getting caught up in them.

Archie smiled wickedly as he went to collect his pillow. “It’s customary in the Kennedy household to throw pillows at the news of a birth.”

“It is not!”

“Oh all right, it isn’t. Would you believe me then if I said there was a national holiday dedicated to attacking each other with pillows that just happens to coincide with today?”

“No.”

“Worth a try.” Archie said, before turning his eyes on Horatio with an expression that was normally only seen on enthusiastic puppies. “Come on, Horatio, I just want to have a little fun. It won’t hurt anybody. Please?”

Horatio put a hand to his temple and shook his head. “I can only imagine what a handful you were as a child,” he said, getting out of his hammock as Archie gave an excited hop, “You probably had your parents and governesses wrapped around your little finger.”

“I must invite you round to the house sometime,” Archie answered, “Mama would have so many stories to tell you.”

Horatio grabbed his pillow and carefully held it somewhere between his face and his chest, prepared to be more on the defensive. Archie’s pillow came sailing at him again, and he winced and braced himself. The pillow slammed into his and landed on the ground, nudging Horatio back an inch and leaving his fingers stinging. He picked it up and tossed it back at Archie, more of a return of property than an actual attack. Archie caught it and shook his head at Horatio. “Oh, come on, Horatio, give me a fair fight. It just feels unfair otherwise.”

Horatio sighed and shifted his pillow into more of an attack position. Archie’s pillow came flying at him again, and he batted it away forcefully. Archie gave him an approving smile, and with a shrug, Horatio then hurled the pillow into Archie’s face. Far from being put out, Archie laughed as he gathered up the pillows. “That’s the spirit, Horatio! Now look out, because I’ve got all the ammunition!”

It was a good point, and Horatio ducked behind one of the hammocks as a pillow came flying at him. Keeping low, he retrieved it, but received a knock against the shoulder as he did so. Snatching up both pillows, he took careful note of Archie’s position and, after a second of aiming, launched the pillows at him, one connecting with a knee, the other striking Archie’s midriff. Archie was still laughing, and Horatio felt a bit of a smile tugging at his own lips. For all his oddities, at least Archie knew how to entertain people.

This back and forth continued for some time, each of them getting a few good shots in on the other. The hits did sting a bit, but the pillows were soft enough that there was little risk of sporting questionable bruises tomorrow. At last, Horatio held up a hand of truce. “I think we should bring this to a close. I’ll have my watch soon, and I don’t want to have to explain to the Captain why I was late.”

“Fair enough,” Archie grinned, “One more pass should satisfy our honor, don’t you think?”

“I believe so,” Horatio said, picking up the pillow Archie slid towards him, “One at a time, shall we?”

“You go first.”

Horatio straightened up, took aim, and smacked Archie firmly in the upper chest. Archie dusted himself off. “Good shot. Now stand still, it’s my turn.”

Horatio obligingly stood and waited for the last shot, expecting the usual hard-soft sting. Archie had near perfect aim, striking Horatio square in the face. There was a sting, all right, but it was also accompanied by the slightest of ripping noises and another sound Horatio couldn’t quite identify. All he knew was that he was suddenly surrounded by whiteness, and that his nose was unbearably itchy. Cupping his hands over his face, he started sneezing. “_Essh! Issh! Heh-hashh!_”

“Oh my goodness…” Archie said, sounding unexpectedly embarrassed, “I’m so sorry, Horatio!”

“Wh-what…_hatchh!..._What’s happening?” Horatio said, too disoriented by the insistent itch in his nose to figure it all out for himself.

“The pillow…sort of burst,” Archie said, coming up beside Horatio, “And the feathers are going everywhere.”

Horatio just sneezed again. Archie took his arm. “Come on, let’s get you to the other side of the room and dust you off. You’ll be all right if you stop inhaling feathers.”

“N…_nshh!_ Not exactly,” Horatio choked out, although he did appreciate being led away from the worst of the damage, “I-I’m…_k-chh! Tchh!_”

“You’re what?” Archie asked, now sounding concerned.

“Feathersmakemesneeze,” Horatio said quickly, wanting to get the sentiment across before another sneeze overwhelmed him. “_Kpssh!_”

“Well, of course they do,” Archie said, trying to dust Horatio off, “I shouldn’t wonder, considering that they exploded right in your face.”

“No, I mean…_schh!_ they _really_ make me sneeze.” Horatio tried to wipe the feathers out of his hair. “I c-can’t get near…_chkk!_ chickens and geese without sneezing. It’s not so bad when they’re contained in pillows, but…_tich!_ they’re still capable of setting me off.”

Archie looked chagrined. “I’m so sorry, Horatio. I should have guessed these pillows weren’t up to such violent exertion.” He carefully extracted some feathers from Horatio’s curls. “I think I’ve got the worst of it off you. Go out to your watch and I’ll dispose of the feathers by the time you get back. If anyone asks about the sneezing, just…say I made you take snuff to celebrate my good news.”

Horatio had to admit, it was a clever explanation. He couldn’t articulate this, however, because his nose was twitching dangerously again and he decided fresh air took precedence. So he just nodded to Archie and quickly made his way to the door.

His watch was uneventful, except for the sneezes that kept coming every few minutes. Since he was good at keeping them muffled, and found excuses to look out to sea every time he felt one coming on, nobody inquired after his health. And since nobody seemed to be looking askance at his person, he concluded that the feathers had successfully been brushed off him as well. It was a small consolation, even if his face was flushed pink with embarrassment and his nose was getting rather sore.

When he returned to the cabin a few hours later, he peered cautiously inside and took a careful breath. Mercifully, it appeared that Archie had managed to empty the room of feathers. Stepping inside, he saw Archie sitting at the desk, reading. Archie looked up when he heard the door close. “Are the feathers still bothering you?” he asked, clearly still embarrassed.

Horatio shook his head. “I believe I’ve sneezed all that out. Thank you for clearing out the room.”

“It was the least I could do,” Archie said, smiling a little, “But you can’t imagine how hard it was to gather up all those feathers and sneak them outside to toss them overboard. Sneezed a few times myself.”

Horatio stretched and sat down in a nearby chair. “Have you taken a new pillow from the storeroom?”

Archie’s cheeks turned pink. “I…wasn’t entirely sure how to explain the situation to the quartermaster. So I’ve given you the remaining pillow for now, and I’ll sleep without one for a few days until I come up with a good excuse for needing one.”

“Very kind of you, Archie, thank you.” Horatio said.

Archie managed a chuckle. “I believe I’ll be keeping this story to myself. I don’t want my nephew thinking it’s appropriate to cause harm to his best friend.”

“It wasn’t really ‘harm’,” Horatio answered, “And surely it’s better to hit his friend with a pillow instead of a sword.”

“You do have a point,” Archie said, getting the old playful spark back in his eye, “Perhaps I could convince him to fight out his childhood arguments with pillows instead of toy swords.”

“And who knows,” Horatio added, wanting to reassure his friend that, despite everything, he wasn’t as put out by the experience as he’d thought he would be, “Perhaps your national day of pillow-fighting will come true if it catches on. What a sight that would make.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt by tarotgal: "It's National Pillow Fight Day! Someone's allergic to feathers! Now write!" Obviously, National Pillow Fight Day didn't make it into the story itself, but I'd like to think I got the spirit of the thing.


End file.
